


The Sublime

by TheUsualSuspect



Category: The Politician (TV 2019)
Genre: College Parties, F/F, Fluff, Making Out, Opposites Attract, Smut, first times sort of, i also love the mental image of this apartment that I created, it took me longer to edit than write, soft astrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21896857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUsualSuspect/pseuds/TheUsualSuspect
Summary: Set somewhere in between The Assassination of Payton Hobart Pt 2 and Vienna. McAfee and Astrid meet at a party and in Astrid's attempt to continue re-crafting a new life, she lets her in (take that as you will) and gives her a glimpse at the new Astrid as she believes new experiences are the place to start in her search for some semblance of meaning to life.--Alternatively, Astrid and McAfee meet at a frat party, both surprised to see the other there, play beer pong, have a bathroom conversation, and run away from the police together.
Relationships: Astrid Sloan/McAfee Westbrook
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	The Sublime

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of love the idea of these two as a very experimental couple in season 2, but I think it would only happen in another world because McAfee is probably too preoccupied for any relationship, however, they fulfil the opposites attract trope (which I love). Took me way too long to edit because I started writing this in October as what I originally thought would be 3K, not this almost 7K monstrosity. Somewhat edited because I'm lazy.

Astrid found she had a weakness for fedoras, at least she was intrigued by their style, or more so the people wearing them. She was sure it came from her fantasies of the street musician she met in New York. He often played across the street from where she worked. He was all sharp edges and soft eyes. Melodies drifting through the door as it opened sporadically with the flow of customers. A few spare dollars from her tips tossed in his guitar case, a smile over the shoulder. Watching the mockingly gentleman-like tip of his hat, and wink of his eye thank her for the “generous” donation. She flirted with her eyes and he with his music, too shy for what proper words might bring. Until he turned back to the street with his blonde hair tied half-back, tucked underneath the beige fedora.

She hadn’t seen him there in almost a year. 

And she hadn’t thought about him since, until she saw the fedora perched on the head of a girl standing at the far end of the room her face obscured by distance. And she thought maybe it had something to do with the long hair pouring out from underneath the fedora more than the fedora itself, but her eyes kept following her in the crowd. The hair that ran long and brown down her back to the dip at the tailbone, falling about as she engaged in conversation and brushed it over her shoulder.

Astrid hadn’t had much luck finding interesting people at these college parties.  
She usually found them uninteresting; the music wasn’t great, the hallways too cramped, and always people making out on the front lawn, but got her fair share of booze from the ten dollars she paid in shares of the keg and the liquor she raided from the cupboard. 

Essentially, for Astrid college parties were just another way to get lost in a crowd, to feel like something less than she was, searching for a moment of what Rachel called _The Sublime_. She’d looked up from the class reading she was doing on their lunch break and announced it to Astrid like a diagnosis. She described it as a quality of greatness, beyond all calculation, imagination or measurement. A sensation when reached meant to create pleasure and wonder through existential delight or create a primal fear. Rachel had then made it her mission to bring Astrid to all of her college parties in search of the elusive experience. She knew she wouldn’t find it here, but she wasn’t going to find it at work either and she needed somewhere to start. Each party was a good a place as any. 

A drunk couple danced into her forcing her to tear her eyes away from the fedora and towards the couple to glare. She moved towards the kitchen in search of a drink, slipping past people made easy with her small stature and resting glare. The keg was swamped by people leaning against it, talking around it and pouring from it. Astrid took a cup of an unused stack and filled it before filing her way out of the constantly filling kitchen. Sipping from it as she scanned the room looking for Rachel.

She found her in the backyard at the beer pong table at what Rachel described to be “perfect timing,” because she needed a teammate. Astrid agreed, there was a cruel humour to beer pong because she was a decent player and found entertainment in drunk people. The girl standing on the other side of the table was obviously looking for someone specific in the crowd.  
“If you’re pulling out the big guns,” Rachel threatened playfully to the other girl, “so am I.”  
Astrid stared back, vague disinterest radiating across her face as though she wished they’d just move on.  
“When you are throwing up tonight you can thank me,” Rachel continued, “and you remember who did it.” Rachel puffed her chest out and lowered her voice in an attempt of faux intimidation.  
Astrid rolled her eyes at the gesture; as she recognised Rachel over- stepped the mark of intimidating and came off only as trying too hard. Definitely a side- effect of the four consecutive shots she’d done before leaving. 

The other girl grabbed the wrist of a girl passing, pleading, “Just one game.”  
She brushed her hand off her wrist and kept walking. Her eyes frantically scanned the crowd.  
“Oi McAfee!” She called, “I need you for beer pong.”  
The name rang through Astrid’s ears. Although she assumed there were not many people going by that name, she didn’t take the one she knew as a party girl. Until she saw the girl march over to the was table and saw the face of the very same McAfee Westbrook poking out from under the fedora.

The fedora.

“Astrid,” McAfee said surprised at her appearance, “Hi.”  
“Hi.” She was still looking at the fedora, “who thought I’d find McAfee Westbrook at a frat party.”  
“Of all places.” McAfee smiled, “if I didn’t come, Chinny here.” She put her arm on the shoulder of the girl next to her, “would end up unbelievably drunk leaving her drunk and hooking- up with someone she hasn’t met and won’t remember in the morning.”  
Chinny grumbled, “she’s my impulse control.” Astrid looked between the two of them, “and a good shot.”  
“Whatever. I’m game,” Astrid replied downing the remainder of her cup and fixing her opposition with a competitive stare.  
“You should rock paper scissors for it,” Rachel suggested motioning towards Astrid and McAfee.  
McAfee responded, “Sure,” while Astrid shrugged in indifference.

McAfee threw down rock and Astrid beat her with paper. Astrid took the first shot and missed followed by Rachel’s bouncing off the table. Chinny missed, but McAfee hit the cup closest to Astrid which she drank.  
“You too know each other?” Rachel asked, finally clueing on.  
McAfee and Astrid shared a look, “High school,” Astrid replied.  
“We ran against each other for student body president,” McAfee added, “well, I wasn’t the candidate, my asshole ex-best friend was,” she added sourly, “but we did run against one another.”  
Rachel drank again after Chinny managed to place one in a cup.  
“Who won?”  
Astrid shot her ball before she answered, “Technically. I did.”  
McAfee finished her drink and pointedly leant across to correct Astrid, “technically,” she emphasised, “but you dropped out before it was announced.”  
“Well Payton had to resign anyway.”  
“Yes.” She shot, “yes he did.” She missed, her bitter tone the only thing not missing its mark. 

It struck Astrid how torn up McAfee appeared still, after two years. Still hurting from Payton. Maybe she did too, not from Payton, but from her family the coldness of her father and the absence of her mother, always drowning her sorrows in prescriptions and booze. She liked to think she was moving on though. New life, new job, new friend, old clothes. It wasn’t perfect and she now understood why people said working in retail is “character building”, but every day was another step away from the pain. She wondered how many steps away McAfee was. 

As their game was coming to a close, more drinks skulled between Rachel and Chinny than the other two, Astrid began to realise that Rachel was a competitive drunk. Sure, she’d seen it subdued before, in an anything you can do I can do better style, but this new level was something else. Chinny’s ping pong ball odd bounced out of an empty cup and into one of the three remaining full ones.  
“NO,” she cried, “that’s not fair.” She stalked around the table to Chinny, “what did you do to the balls? Did you weight them?”  
“That’s not a thing,” Chinny replied unfazed by the very drunk intimidation, “and no. I didn’t.”  
McAfee looked concerned though, her brow was creased and she was swaying subtly back and forth. 

It was so unusual, Astrid had never seen McAfee as anything other than composed, and she definitely hadn’t seen it coming when Rachel swept her hands across the table and flung the mostly empty cups towards Chinny. They missed though, and instead they hit McAfee, colouring her blue shirt navy.  
She looked down in surprise and shock.  
“Great,” was her only response.  
With Rachel and Chinny now concentrated in their argument of blame McAfee looked toward Astrid, “Do you know where the bathroom is here?”  
Astrid didn’t want to stick around the others and see any punches start flying.  
Instead she replied, “It’s upstairs, this way.”  
She furrowed an eyebrow, “Thanks,” she sounded uncertain.  
“You’re welcome,” she replied, voice soft as she led McAfee back into the house. Winding through the guests making out in the dim light of the balcony or dancing with zero coordination in the living room, up the stairs, passing several family photos on the walls of whoever’s house this was. Astrid thought Rachel had mentioned something about a Rick... or was it Dylan? It didn’t matter much.

“It’s that one, there.”  
“Thanks.” McAfee turned the light on and they both heard a groan from the bathtub.  
McAfee entered and Astrid peered her head in drawing her eyes from the shower on the left across the elaborately illuminated mirror and vanity. It’s grandeur reminding her of the life she left behind in Santa Barbara, the sickly feeling of claustrophobia returning to her body. She skimmed her eyes to the bath- tub on the right, attempting to shake away her ever creeping past.  
“Oh God,” she groaned, noticing the girl passed out in the bath.  
McAfee’s confused face turned to the object of Astrid’s comment, “Do you think she’ll be alright?” she asked.  
“She’s probably just passed out.” Astrid said, reassessing the situation.  
“She’s got a pillow and doesn’t look like she threw up. So, I’d say this is... voluntary,” McAfee concluded.  
“So, you answered your own question and she’ll be fine,” Astrid reassured, allowing the smallest curve of her lips to aid her conviction.  
“Yeah.” McAfee walked over to the basin, dampened the washer and started dabbing it on her shirt. She watched her struggle and reconciled it with her own half-hearted experiences working in fast food.  
“You know it works better if you take it off,” Astrid suggested, “if you can lay it on the vanity it’s easier.”  
McAfee continued her dressed attempt as Astrid continued.  
“I’ve had customers throw their drink at me; or meal.” McAfee stopped, but made no further move, “Trust me. I know what works,” she encouraged.  
McAfee stood back up with a slight sigh, removed her hat, placed it on the vanity and moved onto the ends of her hair. Half tipping her head into the sink, her hands carding through the hair to break up that which had clumped together from the beer.  
“Now you’re going to drip water all over that shirt and it will only get worse.”  
McAfee sighed, “Astrid, why do you want me to take my shirt off?”  
Astrid’s response was immediately defensive “because it’s easier to clean and will dry faster.” She bit her lip slowing her words, slowing her world down, “And if it’s wet, you’ll get cold.” 

McAfee turned the tap off, her hand groping the counter for a hand towel, careful to not extend hair out of the basin at a risk of it dripping.  
“Can you hand me a towel, Astrid. Or something to dry my hands.” When she didn’t move she added, “You’re right I don’t want to make this shirt any worse.”  
“Okay.”  
The next thing McAfee felt was Astrid’s fingertips brush against the skin just above her shirt as she started to undo the buttons.  
McAfee’s breath hitched in her throat.  
“What are...” she stammered.  
It’d been a long time since anyone had taken her clothes off. She closed her eyes only to be reminded of her last encounter, flickering images of lips and teeth on skin passing across her eyelids, she drew a sharp breath as she opened her eyes again passing a look at Astrid to flush the past out of her mind.  
“I’ll deal with this, you just take care of your hair,” Astrid replied simply.  
McAfee turned her attention back to her hair as goose bumps threatened to spill down her arms as the soft hands of Astrid trailed gently down her arms, lifting them only as she took the shirt off, leaving her just in her jeans and bra. Her eyes coming back up to flick across her bare stomach to meet her eyes, the look lingering there sending the lightest flush of heat to McAfee’s cheeks. 

She turned back to the basin, twisting the ends of her long hair as she rung the water out, moving her hair out of the basin and leaning forward so that she could pull it all up into a bun. She stopped mid action as she noticed that Astrid was cleaning her shirt for her. She stood straight.  
“Um, thanks,” she started awkwardly, “I could have finished that though.” She hadn’t actually put any weight on her words of ‘dealing with her shirt’.  
“I know.” She leant over to the basin and wet the washer again turning back the shirt, before adding sincerely, “I figured it’s the least I could do to apologise for Rachel.”  
McAfee sat down on the edge of the bath as Astrid continued to search through the cupboards.  
“Is Rachel always that competitive?”  
“I’ve never seen it that bad,” she replied pulling a hairdryer out from the cupboard underneath the sink, “it’s always been a “I can plate this dish faster than you” or “I can clean this table faster than you” sort of petty competitveness.”  
“Well, at least beer is better than Chinny’s vomit,” McAfee replied with a soft laugh, “since I’m her so called impulse control I also end up being the one who she throws up on, or who walks her home.”  
Astrid’s hand rested on her hip as she worked the hairdryer back and forth over the damp patches of the blue blouse.  
“Usually, it’s only the second one though.” She tucked her hair back behind her ear and Astrid looked on, transfixed, watching each strand fall into place across McAfee’s bare shoulders.  
“You are the last person I would’ve thought to find here,” Astrid said, handing an only slightly damp shirt back to McAfee. Any trace of traditional coldness that used to linger in Astrid’s voice had disappeared, sounding almost glad.  
“Likewise. Not that the party scene isn’t yours, just that I didn’t expect you to know anyone from Columbia.”  
“Rachel invites me out every now and again. Cheap drinks and usually someone forgets to lock the liquor away.” McAfee sat buttoning her shirt back up, “I would’ve thought you would be reading Politics 101 or studying still, maybe asleep at your desk.” Astrid fiddled absent-mindedly with the cord of the hairdryer.  
McAfee wondered if this had been an instant assumption, or something Astrid had spent time thinking over. Her. Her classes, study habits, what she did in her spare time (not that she had any), sleeping under her desk, on her desk. Of course, she’d concocted her own ideas of Astrid’s life since she left in the middle of Senior year, but she was currently doing a really good job of thwarting them all. Caring Astrid, kind Astrid. Astrid that confused her and surprised her. An Astrid that intrigued her. 

“Usually, yes. Although I read Politics 101 like five years ago. But last night I did fall asleep on my desk.” She laughed, “Don’t do a double major,” she joked, tucking her hair behind her ear.  
Astrid found herself smiling at the other girl, a thousand miles different from the one she knew two years ago. She knew she was not the same person, but her immediate thought wasn’t that people changed. People are creatures of habit and are immediately drawn to the norm.  
She remembered that McAfee’s fedora was still sitting on the vanity, “Hey,” she said turning back to pick it up, “You’re still missing something.” She turned back and placed the hat on McAfee’s head. She let out a soft laugh.  
“Can’t forget that. I borrowed it from my roommate, she said I didn’t look party enough.”  
“Well I think it looks party enough. Cute even.”  
McAfee ducked her head to blush, avoiding Astrid’s wandering eyes, “Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Heads up!” There was a guy standing in the doorway to the bathroom. They both turned their heads to look at him, “The neighbours called the cops so you gotta go,” he let out in a rush before noticing the girl in the tub, “Oh shit. Hailey’s done the whole pass out in the tub thing again-“ McAfee raised her eyebrows at the ‘again’, “although to be fair last time people were getting it on in her room so…” he trailed off, the glaze in his eyes searching for purpose, “So yeah. You gotta go.”  
“Yeah thanks,” McAfee replied as he disappeared back out the corridor.  
“We better go,” Astrid said starting for the door.  
“We?” McAfee hadn’t moved.  
“Unless you want to stay around and get interviewed.” Astrid added, a murmur of challenge in her eyes.  
McAfee didn’t respond she just started moving quickly to catch up with Astrid just as she rounded the corner onto the stairs. It seemed as though the rest of the party was also trying to leave before the police arrived, however, all that had succeeded in doing was creating a bottleneck of sorts in the living room, which significantly slowed down the process. By the time they made it out the front door, Astrid sneaking a few elbow jabs to move the guys trying to leer down her shirt or grope her ass away, the police were already coming down the end of the street.  
“Come on,” McAfee said, adrenaline already starting to make her hands shake. She grabbed Astrid’s hand and pulling her into a run, pulling her through the rest of the people walking down the street, pulling her away from the slamming doors of police cars, pulling her away from the calls of officers asking others to stay put and their questions of whose house it is. Pulling her around the corner down the far end of the street as she stopped running, mentally questioning how Astrid managed to run in her heels, albeit they were heeled ankle boots, but nonetheless heels. She loosened her grip on Astrid’s hand but didn’t let it go completely, a part of her liked how they felt together, she also noted how Astrid didn’t drop her hand either even as they stopped under a tree.  
“Where are we going?” Astrid asked.  
McAfee twisted her face at the occurrence of a disappointing realisation, “Um. I didn’t think that far ahead.”  
“You didn’t think that far ahead?”  
McAfee was shaking her head and laughing, “I didn’t think that far ahead.” The laugh was intended to be short, but was elongated by the alcohol, which soon also had Astrid laughing too, both of their bodies leaning into each other, finding distorted comfort in their ebb and flow. McAfee dropped her eyes, letting them meet Astrid’s as she realised how far in she was leaning, her hair brushing against Astrid’s shoulder. Now noting that Astrid’s eyes had already been there to meet hers. Not knowing that they’d been transfixed on the way that her eyes crinkled as she laughed. They stood there, their laugher petering out, their hands resting between them, letting their eyes scan each other’s faces

Astrid could feel her heartbeat evening out from the run, and a one- in- a- million sensation flutter through her stomach, her hand in McAfee’s turning oddly sweaty. Tentatively, she reached her other hand and placed it on McAfee’s shoulder and slowly brought it up to cup the side of her face, judging her reaction along the way. Ever so slightly she felt the pulse in her hand jump.  
“Is this okay?” Astrid asked almost nervously.  
McAfee nodded her head and took a step closer to Astrid, “Yep,” she let out shakily, she could feel her breathing start to quicken. She let her thumb trace over the back of Astrid’s hand, her other hand brushing the flyaway hairs off of Astrid’s face, she let her hand rest there as she absorbed Astrid up close. The face free of hostility and brimming with wonder, her eyes opening and taking in all she could.  
“Your eyes look really green in the moonlight,” she whispered.  
She had just enough time to see the blush hit Astrid’s cheeks before she leaned in to meet her lips. 

Astrid’s lips were soft, and McAfee could feel her lipstick staining their imprints into her skin. The hand that now rested on her shoulder was soft and gentle. Even the tone of her voice had been gentle; and her actions of cleaning her shirt, and her hands on her bare skin. 

Gentle.

McAfee never would have thought that Astrid Sloan could be gentle  
But she could.  
And McAfee liked it.

Astrid was the first to pull away, and immediately McAfee’s legs felt wobbly. As the sober part of her brain started to question if it had been the right choice.  
“We could go to mine,” Astrid suggested, “if you want. Unless you’ve decided something else.” She tried to judge her reaction gauging whether to push a little or leave it alone, “it’s not far from here and Penelope, my roommate’s, a recluse. Honestly,” she emphasised, starting to walk in the direction of her apartment, pulling McAfee’s arm with her, “she’s never home and Jake’s a little weird, but he pulls night shifts a lot.” She held McAfee’s hand with both of hers a pulled at it gently.  
“We don’t have to do anything,” she offered.  
“No.” McAfee replied, “I mean that’s okay.” McAfee was buzzing and it was causing her to trip over her words, “as in I do want to go to yours.”  
The balls of her feet felt like they were on fire standing still, “and I do want to kiss you again,” she admitted shyly.  
Astrid raised an eyebrow suggestively and McAfee tried not to blush at the suggestion, not that she didn’t like the idea.  
She did.  
She had just never imagined it with Astrid and now the thought had her heart involuntarily pounding.

She willingly gave into Astrid’s gentle tug and fell into line next to her, letting their hands hang clasped together between them. They managed a comfortable level of mindless conversation for the duration of the walk to Astrid’s tiny flat.

The night air made them thankful for their jackets, the breeze dropping in and out, weaving its way through the city, catching McAfee’s hair in its tide, the side pieces taking flight and trailing along after her. She was glad Astrid had convinced her to take off her shirt and dry it earlier, or else she would’ve had the chills now.  
“Why did you leave?” McAfee asked, “in High School.”  
Astrid flicked her eyes around about the street, her jaw setting itself straight.  
“I heard about your father, but surely you didn’t leave because of that.”  
Astrid let out a held sigh, “My father was an asshole,” she started slowly, bitterly, as she pulled a lighter and cigarette out of her bag, “and my mother thought that pills and alcohol were the way to happiness.” She lit her cigarette and took a drag, “I didn’t want to stay around all of that.” She let her other hand fall back to McAfee’s.  
“I’m sorry.” McAfee squeezed her hand lightly.  
Astrid seemed not to acknowledge her apologies as she continued on between puffs of her cigarette, “when I ran away to New York, with Riccardo, it was the first time I felt anything, other than this,” she paused looking for the right word, “coldness.” Another drag, “there is a liberation I feel here. It was the first place I thought about going after… everything.”  
“Is it better here?” McAfee asked quietly.  
“Most of the time,” she replied solemnly, “But I do have the misfortune of working in customer service and people are assholes.”  
“Guess I’m lucky then. I’m on a scholarship for Columbia, so I don’t need to work and with the double degree, I don’t really have time to do so either.”  
Another gust of wind picked up brushing them over.  
“And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your dad,” she said before adding, “and your mum.”  
“I’m better off without them anyway.” 

She finished her cigarette and stubbed it out against the side of a brick house that they now stood outside, she flicked it into a bin by the large wooden double doors.  
“Since I had to rent in New York on a waitress’ wage,” she started to explain, “it’s not glamorous. It’s old, small and I share with two roommates.”  
“If only you saw my dorm,” McAfee joked in assurance, “there’s three of us in there too.”

They stood on the landing outside Astrid’s apartment as she searched through her bag for her keys in the low lamplight cast from those mounted on the brick wall either side of the door. Astrid opened that door onto a black and white tiled landing. To the right of the room a row of mailboxes sat inset into the wall, opposite them were a set of stairs on the left. Astrid locked the front door behind her and led McAfee up the next three flights. Wallpaper desperately clung to the walls all failing excesses curling in on themselves. Still-life paintings stuck on the walls, their stiff stature in favour of affixing via super glue rather than nail and wire, greatly contrasted by the fluorescents hanging overhead reflecting off the dull wooden floors they stood on. Astrid stopped outside the door marked 12 with brass numbering. She took the second set of keys off her keyring and opened the door into a quiet apartment. McAfee first noticed the many cups that littered the coffee table near the door across from the tv and then the tiny kitchenette squandered away in the far back corner, that she could only make out from the stove light still lingering on over an empty stove. Astrid turned back to look at McAfee who was surveying the visible aspects of the apartment. She watched her walk over to the window past the coffee table and chairs, pull the curtain back a peak and peer outside. McAfee’s casual admiration of the place stumped Astrid.  
“What’s your dorm like?” She asked, trying to diffuse the tension she felt as she took her jacket off and hung it on the coat rack.  
“It’s smaller,” she replied, admiring the embellishments on the curtains, “and we don’t have a tv. Not that I have the time for it. Are these hand-made?” She indicated to the curtains.  
“Penelope got the curtains and lace from a thrift store and did the embroidery herself.” Astrid moved over to join McAfee by the curtains, “She’s very proud of them.”  
“They’re quaint.” Her eyes her fixed on the patch in her hand, absentmindedly tracing her thumb over the work, “we can’t do anything like this. We’re stuck with the same standard issue curtains as everyone else in the building.”  
“Penelope’s a design student, she’s done some amazing dresses as well. They’re gorgeous, but her sewing machine is against our joint wall and some nights all I hear is it buzz.”

McAfee could only imagine what Astrid would’ve done in response to that annoyance two years ago. 

“What about your other roommate?”  
“Jake is...” she fished around her mind for a word or phrase even, that could verbalise Jake, “He’s an art student who works as clinical staff at a Hospital and last year Penelope and I almost kicked him out over him not paying rent for six months because he lost it betting on horse races,” she groaned, “so make of that what you will,” she concluded.  
“They sound nice,” she replied, “other than the not paying rent thing.”  
“Yeah. They’re not always bad company.” 

And somehow that was the only thing she’d heard Astrid say that sounded like the one she thought she knew.

“Where’s your room?” McAfee asked, innocently enough, but Astrid saw the glint of excitement through the intentional cast-off look of the other girl.  
Astrid took McAfee’s hand, and lifted her eyes to hers.  
“It’s just past the kitchen.” She started walking slowly backwards luring McAfee to follow her with their connected hands and an unwavering gaze that was eating away at McAfee. She followed willingly taking steps slightly larger than Astrid’s to move closer to her, abandoning her hat along the way, a coy smile playing on her face by the time she could pull her close just outside her bedroom door. She leant in to kiss her again, as Astrid’s hand reached for the door handle and she pulled her lips away moments before they actually touched continuing to tease her whilst she pulled McAfee into her room and closed the door.

McAfee struck first, her lips branding Astrid’s with a lingering want asking to be fed since she felt her hands run down her skin and take off her shirt, and it had only been feeding on every word since. Now she gave in. Her skin ached to have Astrid’s hands back on it and she was kindly blessed as her hands fell to the small of her back, seeking out the slim cuttings where her shirt rode up. McAfee’s hands slipped up to rest on the back of Astrid’s neck as she started nipping at the other girl’s lips, causing her to groan a little at her actions. She pulled McAfee with her as she walked backwards to her bed, grabbing her shirt to spin them around before gently pushing her onto the duvet.

McAfee giggled as she fell back, pulling Astrid down with her, her hair falling onto her face, tickling it causing more laughter from her. She brushed Astrid’s hair off her face and behind her ear, as her laughter fell quiet, letting her hand come to rest in her hair.  
“Your hair is so soft,” she whispered.  
Astrid smiled in return her entire mind occupied with the girl below her, she was everything she needed right now. Her eyes glazing over hers once again, “You are a wonder McAfee Westbrook.”  
“Thank you.”  
Astrid laughed, “I don’t think that’s the kind of compliment you say ‘thank you’ to. I think you should just kiss me.”

Astrid leant down to meet her kiss as she pushed her shoes off her feet, her hands reaching up McAfee’s shirt, relishing in the shiver of approval from her as her hands crept higher. McAfee’s kisses doing everything in their power to draw out little moans from Astrid as her hands rested on the back of her hair. Astrid started unbuttoning McAfee’s shirt, trailing kisses down her chest and stomach as she undid each button. She felt her body respond in turn; squirming at her touch, her hands guiding their mouths back together, tugging at her bottom lip in protest of her teasing. Her hands ran down Astrid’s back to her ass, finding enough grip to flip her over, eliciting a surprised yelp from her. McAfee spread her thighs to straddle her and sat back to pull her unbuttoned shirt off completely. 

“You good?” McAfee asked leaning back over Astrid, her hair pooling either side of her face sealing them off from the rest of the world like a curtain.  
Astrid nodded, “yeah.” And she was. It was just them in the entire world and none of the other 7 billion people on the planet mattered, just the two of them, and they were so tiny and insignificant. They didn’t matter in any context outside Astrid’s room. And that thought alone was so liberating, to both of them.  
McAfee’s hands came to rest on the hem of her shirt, “can I take this off then?”  
“Yes.”  
McAfee slid Astrid’s shirt off over her head, letting her fingertips dance over her skin as they returned to her waist. She leant back down to capture her lips greedily, in a moment that left them gasping for breath. She moved her kisses down to her meet her cheek and then her jaw, leaving kitten licks on the underside of her jaw, producing tiny whines from the girl underneath her only beginning to squirm. Her kisses demanding more real estate of Astrid’s neck as her hands fumbled with the front open clasp of her bra, her hands, eventually moving to cup her breasts as her mouth moved in hot pursuit of the new skin, her lips finding purchase on the supple flesh. Astrid’s hand moving up to McAfee’s hair in a suggestion of keeping her mouth there. McAfee obliged; anything to keep the helpless moans coming out of Astrid’s mouth. 

The room was filled with barely stifled whines and moans as McAfee’s hand worked its way up the other girl’s thigh, pushing her skirt up, turning Astrid’s breathing heavy. Partly from passion, partly from her ever progressing realisation that McAfee had more experience at this than she did, and maybe she was panicking a little bit at that fact. Astrid had been with women, but she hadn’t been with a woman. She couldn’t hope to replicate the sensuality McAfee was bestowing upon her now. Especially, as she’d started kissing further down as she lowered herself, inching closer between Astrid’s thighs. 

“Hey… Hey,” Astrid let out shakily, causing McAfee to pull her head up and crease her eyebrows in concern.  
Astrid sat up right, her eyes flickering uncertainly to McAfee’s, making indistinct contact.  
“Are you alright?” McAfee asked, pulling herself up to sit next to her.  
Astrid ducked her head away as McAfee brought her hand to sit on top of hers, resting against her bare knee.  
“I’m sorry, if I moved too fast.”  
Astrid shook her head, “I haven’t done this before.” She twisted the duvet edge between her fingers, “with other women,” she admitted, “I thought if I was drunk or… “she trailed off with a shrug of her shoulders, “if I was drunk or with someone I liked… I really want to,” she tried to reassure McAfee. It was the truth. She did want to, and she didn’t know how it could go from feeling so right to not quite right in one moment.  
“It was good. You were good McAfee,” she let her gaze flick up to the other girl, “I don’t know if I can reciprocate that.”  
McAfee’s face softened and her hand came up to rest on Astrid’s face, forcing their eyes together.  
“That’s okay,” she reassured softly, “we don’t have to do anything.”  
She remembered the other girl convincing her with those words not even an hour earlier and tried not to think about the irony as she now offered the same reassurance.  
“If you want me to go, I’ll go,” she offered, as Astrid still showed no verbal acknowledgement of her words, only her face merely melting into her hand.  
“No,” Astrid managed as McAfee stood up and began to button her shirt up making a move towards her door, “stay. Please. Just.” she pulled a pyjama shirt over her head and moved to lie down, “Lie down here with me. Stay here, tonight at least.” 

Even in the low light McAfee could tell the pleading expression on her face was her attempt of an apology.  
“Okay.”  
McAfee smiled softly at her as she slid closer and laid a gentle kiss onto her lips. They both slipped underneath the covers and McAfee let her head come to rest on Astrid’s chest, her arm moving instinctively to wrap around her side and barely press a kiss against her forehead. 

The sun rose the next morning through Penelope’s embroidered curtains, filtering the morning across the apartment. Casting a lavender glow in the absence of shadows across their living room. The subtle click of a key turning in its lock vibrated through the front door, matching the interspersed buzzes of a sewing machine. Jake fell through the newly opened door, tossed his jacket onto the coat rack and fell into his room and fast asleep. He would never know of McAfee’s visit the previous night as he was quick to sleep through all the events of the following morning. Unaware of the girls laying together at the other end of the apartment. 

McAfee’s head was buzzing, and not because she was hungover, more so, she suspected because she did not partake in drunk hook-ups. Part of her brain at least, was comprehensive enough to note that there is a first time for everything. She knew she wanted to leave, for fear of the uncomfortable conversation that was bound to emerge when Astrid woke up, however, since falling asleep she had become encased in her arms and she would surely wake her as she left. Either way she would encounter conversation with Astrid, and if not Astrid, then one of her roommates. At least here she was warm, cocooned in blankets and Astrid’s soft arms.

She was happy lying there in her hung over daze, soothed by the steady rise and fall of Astrid’s chest. The short ends of her hair lay on McAfee’s shoulder, retiring their lazy existence to tickling her neck. The sheer curtains allowed lonely particles to drift in and out of view darting between the rays, falling over the sleeping subject, encasing the black and white filter lens of her bed with a rectangle of light.

Serenity.

That was until she started to move because then McAfee knew it would not be long until she was awake and her stomach started looping in on itself in anticipation of Astrid’s reaction. A groggy Astrid extracted her arm from underneath McAfee, rolling over before she became aware of the implication of her actions.

Who was in her bed?

Suddenly more alert, she rolled back over to face McAfee and took a moment to recall the events of the night before. She relaxed back into the pillow, her lips forming a sleepy smile.  
“You stayed,” she said.  
McAfee couldn’t discern the tone in her voice as it was too far laced with sleep, however the smile hadn’t dropped from Astrid’s face.  
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”  
“A good thing,” she shuffled closer to her, earning a shy smile from the other girl, “Why?”  
“You were warm, and I guess I liked the new side of you last night. You were helpful.” She remembered her cleaning her shirt, “And vulnerable.” When she stopped their hook up last night with her admission, “And… soft.”  
They both blushed a little.  
“Well, I’d still kick your ass,” Astrid half-hearted tried to retain her reputation, knowing that it had already been corrected in McAfee’s eyes.  
McAfee laughed lightly, “I’m sure you would.” Her hand had fallen into Astrid’s hair and she was currently stroking her fingers through it gently.  
“I saw the fedora and, I guess- I guess, I have a thing for them. I’d already seen it, before it was you. And when I saw you wearing it, you just looked really cute.”  
McAfee ducked her head as pink dusted her cheeks, “it’s not mine.”  
“Yeah. Well you thank that roommate of yours for me.”  
She laughed, “I will.”  
They stayed there wrapped in the blankets of Astrid’s bed, their faces a breath away from each other, admiring the dishevelled hair and make- up of the girl they faced.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Astrid said after a while.  
McAfee’s hand dropped from her hair to cup the side of her face, “It’s alright,” she emphasised, “really.”  
Astrid’s expression remained embarrassed and apologetic.  
“I couldn’t go through with it my first time. I was so nervous, but she was nice and waited until I was confident and ready,” she recalled, “It should be your call.”  
She watched Astrid nod, touching her forehead with hers.  
“Maybe another time I could teach you,” she suggested.  
“Teach me?”  
“How it works with girls. If you want,” she offered nervously.  
“I know how it works with girls,” she said, McAfee noting the marginal reminiscence of defensiveness in her tone.  
She leant closer to her, “Sometimes, it helps to have first- hand experience. And a teacher.”  
“I’d like that,” she said closing the gap to meet her lips.

Needless to say, McAfee did thank her roommate for the hat, and did let Astrid cook her a breakfast monstrosity. Astrid watched her walk back down the hallway and stairs to leave the complex and she’d known the parties wouldn’t be where she found it, but maybe they were a stepping- stone; maybe McAfee was the next step. Even as she’d left in a rush of words about forgetting about finishing the paper she should’ve done the night before. Astrid thought that maybe she’d found the next key for a future door to the Sublime, her next experience in her new life and maybe that was what Rachel had meant all along.


End file.
